


ask and you shall recieve

by ratafia



Series: Kinktober 2019 [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Knotting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Referenced Dean/Other(s), Size Kink, Size Queen Dean Winchester, Sloppy Seconds, god!castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 09:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratafia/pseuds/ratafia
Summary: Dean always brings his hookups to that one abandoned house with the strange carved statue over the entrance and one day Castiel the god emerges from the wall and tells Dean that all his sexual shenanigans have given Cas enough strength to manifest again and how would Dean like to be rewarded for his offerings and service.





	ask and you shall recieve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alessariel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alessariel/gifts).

> Fill for the seventeenth day of Kinktober - Size Kink. 
> 
> Originally written as a storytimes for the Destiel Discord server - [Profound bond](http://discord.profoundbond.net/). Prompt (the summary, basically) belongs to Alessariel, inspired by cat [relucant].

The Guy's dick - for the life of him, Dean couldn't remember his name, slipped out of his ass with an obscene wet pop. He whined at the empty feeling, but The Guy was already zipping up and leaving, with one final slap on Dean's naked cheek that stung pleasantly over the previous blows.  
But still, it wasn't enough, it never was.  
He’d been going to this house for weeks now, after the two guys in a row that he picked up at the bar next door ended up at least _somewhere_ close to what he wanted. It was like a charm. After those two guys each nameless stranger he fucked against the wall of that weird house was bigger than the last. It was like a fricking parade of big dicks out of Dean’s best wet dreams.  
He was sure the whole deal was thanks to the even more weird statue that was...built into...glued to...etched into…?? He never could figure it out precisely, but regardless, there was a statue over the front door of that abandoned house. A human-ish looking figure, kneeling, with hands cupped over their crotch where a much larger than average protrusion lay.  
He dubbed it his Big Lucky Charm and thanked the faceless figure every time he left that tiny bit more satisfied at the end of the night.  
He didn't actually believe in it though. It was just a silly ritual he kept up because fucking the guys under the shelter of dirty, but still-whole roof was better than doing them in the sticky alley where cops liked to catch late party-goers. 

So when he stirred and finally gathered himself enough to move away from cum-stained wall and realized that actually he couldn't... Well. He freaked out.  
He freaked out even more, when wooden fingers locked onto his wrist from that wall he kept fucking against. And then, following those fingers, came the rest of a body.  
By the time he’d stopped shrieking like a girl in a classic horror flick, the figure was fully out of the wall and had turned a pretty natural ‘human color’. Pale skin shone like a beacon in the dark room, a lonely ray of moonlight reflecting from unnaturally blue eyes.  
Dean's eyes however were drawn to a totally different part of sudden apparition’s anatomy. His (it was a male shaped apparition at least) dick was... just... huge.  
Exactly like he’d always dreamed; uncut and already hard, the thick, long heft of it standing proudly against a taut stomach, glistening with a drop of precome. He gulped. The figure spoke. 

"Hello, Dean."

It had a perfect voice too, in addition to everything else - low and gruff, rolling over Dean, making him shiver with something very different from fear.  
Which was still very much present, but mixed with curiosity and a sudden thirst to kneel before that specimen, and lick, suck and find out if that monster of a dick tasted as good as it looked. 

"I'm glad you like the shape... It was... confusing, figuring out what would be sufficient to express my gratitude". 

Finally, Dean looked up, quiet and honestly even more confused, having the weirdest feeling of deja vu, as the slope of man's shoulder reminded him of something... But the man, if he could be called that, was talking. Explaining that Dean’s quest to find the perfect dick to fuck himself on had somehow awoken a very real and very grateful God.  
Who now was bent on expressing that gratitude to Dean.  
With anything that he desired. 

"Can I blow you?" - the words slipped from Dean’s lips before he could even think them over properly. The tightening grip on his wrists, that Castiel--or at least that's what he’d called himself anyway--didn't release, and the brightening glow of his eyes told him it wasn't that unwelcome a suggestion. 

"Anything you want, Dean." 

Never before had he dropped to his knees faster than in that moment.  
It was doubly nice that his knees hit not the hard floor but a fluffy pillow, cushioning him perfectly and Castiel smiled at him encouragingly from above, with a gaze full of wonder and a halo of dark tousled locks making him look very much like the God he was...  
He was so handsome too, it felt almost unreal, but his skin under Dean's trembling palms felt real enough. So he licked his lips in reverent anticipation and wrapped his fingers around the base of that cock, barely catching a whine when he couldn’t manage to even connect them it was so thick.  
Cas' fingers found their way into his hair, petting him, soothing, not really pushing, but there was enough of a nudge for Dean to surge forward and place the first tentative lick over the length, the bittersweet taste bursting over Dean's tongue and making him moan.  
It was the best. He’d decided that just as he got his lips over the head, his jaw already stretched open _so wide_. He licked, kissed and worked his fingers over the base, gradually managing to relax enough to allow more and more into his mouth. Every time he sunk onto the dick further, Cas murmured quiet praises in that sinful voice, turning Dean on almost as much as a size of his endowment.  
It was when Dean got maybe about a third of it in, swallowing hungrily around it, unable to stop his own noises that he heard Cas moan for the first time. It was laced with an undercurrent of something else, a growl or a purr, something not human and ridiculously hot, making Dean quiver and squirm in his seat, wishing for nothing more than to have that dick in his ass, splitting him open. He whined and struggled, but Cas' hand in his hair was unrelenting as he pulled him off. 

"Anything, Dean, remember? You only need to ask."

So that's how Dean Winhester ended up on his hands and knees. Another pillow appeared out of thin air to support him, but he barely noticed. He was much more preoccupied with the four slick fingers currently fucking him steadily open, expertly finding his prostate with each push inside.  
Behind him, Cas chuckled, low and dangerous, as if he’d heard his thoughts, and maybe he had, because those damned fingers went straight for it this time, pressing, massaging in torturously good circles, and all Dean could do was moan and thrust against them, wanting even more.  
And really, "whatever you want" was quite literal with Cas it seemed because a moment later there were two more fingers pushing in alongside the others, the stretch almost uncomfortable. _Almost_, but even the brief burn as his muscles adjusted to the intrusion, he wanted. He reveled in it, because it promised an even better treat soon to come. Except his body decided _that_ was the limit and he keened as a sudden orgasm tore through him, stars in his eyes and toe-curlingly good, without his dick being touched once and a strangled cry of Cas' names on his swollen lips.  
The best part? Cas kept on fucking him through it in that same unchanging rhythm, steady and deep, and by the end it was so good it was nearly painful.

It was hard to keep track of things when a fucked-out fog settled over him, but when he did sober up a little, it was to find something big and hot rubbing between his asscheeks.  
Dean shamelessly whined, not even bothering to lift his head or move much, except for his hips, instinctively meeting Cas' thrusts, wishing he would slip inside and not just tease him with a slick drag of flesh over his rim. 

"Is that what you want, Dean? For me to fuck you? To stuff you so full you won't be able to walk for days, so you feel it every time you move?" Cas spoke right into his ear, confident and with the same low growl that has Dean desperate in seconds, already wishing he could come again. 

"Yes, please... please... fuck me, fuck me as hard as you want. Just use me... want you... come on, Cas..." - he was rambling but he didn't care, because then there were fingers inside him again, and then _a fist_. Seemingly to check if he was stretched enough and, oh god, he was. 

It just slid in his ass, and Dean felt Cas' wrist with dazed half-unbelieving wonder, lost and nearly sobbing at the fullness, but still arching to draw him deeper.  
He'd gotten nothing instead, Cas slipped out too soon, but he shushed Dean's thrashing and demanding pleas with a soft kiss on the shoulder and a claiming bite on the neck.  
It was on the edge of that sensation, right when Dean was distracted, so open and sprawled under him that Cas finally followed up on his promise. And _oh_, did he deliver.  
He didn’t stop after that first little thrust that aligned them, he just kept going and going in one smooth motion, his truly godly, thick, pulsing cock so big Dean was actually afraid it’d be too much.  
It was not, and he feared he'd faint instead from how damn intense it felt, everything inside him moving, stretching just to accommodate the size.  
He couldn't stop begging, asking for things he couldn't understand himself, just so long as Cas never stops, never leaves.  
He was barely aware when Cas bottomed out, hips flush against his ass. He still tried to get more even if it might kill him. Dean was just so full, he couldn't breathe without the wondrous, gorgeous cock inside him moving, reaching some new place he never knew he had and it was simply glorious.  
They stayed like that for a little while; Dean floating in a near drugged state, breathing through it and sighing when his ass clenched reflexively, bringing with it a new wave of blinding pleasure. Cas though, Cas hugged him loosely, his palms roving over Dean’s stomach in lazy circles, and idly Dean wondered if he could feel himself there, through Dean's skin and flesh, and that thought makes him come again with a desperate cry.  
Dean was pretty sure he _did_ faint at that. Time stretched and slowed, every sensation and feeling concentrated on that sublime pressure he feels, the delightful mix of pain and pleasure, too much and still not enough somehow. He's tired, sleepy with exhaustion settling in his abused muscles, but Cas is still inside him, grinding in those little figure eights pattern that promises something even better.  
But he's so spent already, breathless and powerless, propped up only by Cas' dick and steady palms that have moved to his hips. He wants to actually get fucked, he’s dreamed about it for too long to give up now, but...just as he’s resigned himself to his useless human body, the God--and yeah, Dean’s really gotta remember that it's an actual God fucking him--murmurs in some strange, harsh language and it's like a bomb goes off inside Dean's veins.  
A very, very nice bomb; energizing, healing, leaving the human still breathless but still no longer ready for one more round… More like three. 

"Fuck yeah, Cas... come on, move, please... Give it to me." 

And that’s what Cas did, _ever so_ helpfully.  
Dean choked on a scream, the air knocked out of his lungs with the first powerful thrust that almost had him sliding along the floor... Except there were two firm hands holding him perfectly in place.  
He lost his mind with each push that dragged over his prostate each time simply because there was no space to miss, and he couldn't find it in himself to care. Dean could only hold on and try to match those thrusts as much as Cas allowed, short sobs and uncontrolled moans spilling out of him.  
He screamed when Cas, between showering him with praise at how good and tight he feels, how good it is to fuck him like that, how he can do it for hours, just pumping him full with his come and then healing him up again to go again, and again, slapped Dean's ass hard. The sharp sting quickly dissolving into scolding pleasure yet again, leaving the human wound tighter, begging for more.  
A crazy, half-formed thought flickered through his mind and Dean trembled at the dark, positively wicked chuckle it got from Cas, who clearly managed to catch it.  
Even though he probably shouldn't have he still murmured, moaned, sobbed a litany of "please", the heat inside him becoming unbearable. He couldn't take much more of this, nearly melting from overstimulation, his lashes wet, his limbs shaking and useless.  
Still, he wanted it, his fucked out mind going in circles around it, conjuring more and more enticing images and what-ifs, until another slap--on the other side to match the first--snapped him out of it.  
Dean keened softly, surrendering, just letting Cas take all that he wanted, all that he could, and that earned him a trail of soft kisses along his spine.  
As Cas bent over him, he stilled, balls deep, his angle shifting, making Dean whine pathetically yet again. 

"It is only you I want, Dean... To take you apart... To see you come undone under me, around me. Just. Like. That," - each word whispered to him echoed with a strange pulse in Cas' dick, which somehow was getting... bigger? 

Dean couldn't help it, the pressure, the fullness seemed to truly split him apart but he felt so fucking fantastic, he came, sobbing and shaking. And Cas finally followed him over the edge too, a wanton groan washing over Dean with immense gratification, that he’d done that, he’d made that magnificent being lose it.  
It's the last somewhat coherent thought of his though, because Cas was true to his word to the last. There was a real-life knot expanding inside Dean, stretching him to the brink, and load after load of hot sperm coating his insides, stuffing him full.


End file.
